


Getting Out of Hand

by Typey



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:58:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5244095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Typey/pseuds/Typey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a team undercover assignment, Jemma is Bobbi's charming British partner and also getting a little out of hand with her public displays of affection. Bobbi finds a way to turn the tables.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Out of Hand

**Author's Note:**

> [the_wordbutler](http://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wordbutler) posted a timed [ficlet](http://the-wordbutler.tumblr.com/post/132517632832/uofmdragon-tagged-me-in-a-game-the-rules-are-as) on tumblr about the team investigating an exclusive community registering alien activity in its seemingly pristine lake and that included the line _“'—and I’m not sure how much longer Bobbi can play your younger sister with the charming British partner.' She pauses. 'As much as Jemma might enjoy it.'”_ Obviously [Madi](derevko.tumblr.com) and I couldn't keep ourselves from imagining the game of chicken that would have ensued as Jemma threw herself fully into the role.

If you’d asked her a year ago, Bobbi would have said that only an order from a superior officer could have gotten her into a heavy-on-the-turquoise-stripes preppy outfit complete with boat shoes and a diamond tennis bracelet. (May didn’t offer an explanation as she handed over the jewelry, and Bobbi didn’t ask.) True, Coulson left no room for dissent when he told the team they’d all be attending this “neighborhood barbecue” as part of their investigation of Colonial Lakes, but Bobbi would be lying if she didn’t admit that seeing Jemma in a gingham dress with an uncharacteristically low neckline and a pair of towering open-toed wedges was providing an additional kind of motivator.  


If you’d asked her yesterday, Bobbi would have easily admitted that Jemma Simmons went all-in for undercover work, treating it like preparing for a test. But this morning Jemma hadn’t been able to keep any of her interactions with Bobbi low-key, and Bobbi had sighed as she pulled her into a hallway away from the others and reiterated that being _too_ cute as the “charming British partner” was just going to call attention to them, which was a _bad. idea._ as a spy. Jemma’s response had been, well, unexpected...and flirtatious: “What?! I’m not calling attention to _anything_! It’s not like I’m doing _this_ …” Jemma slipped one hand down onto Bobbi’s ass and put the other on Bobbi’s shoulder to balance herself as she leaned up for a full, open-mouthed, extended kiss before pulling back smugly… “all the time.” But Bobbi’s surprise was pretty quickly superseded by a predatory intent obvious enough that Jemma’s smug grin wavered. Bobbi leaned forward to whisper, deep and full of meaning, “Proud of yourself for that? Just wait until you’re squirming under my attentions while no one else around has any idea why. And there will be people around.” A quick nip to Jemma’s earlobe punctuated Bobbi’s departure.  


This evening, the SHIELD agents were ranged across the multi-acre expanse of green behind one of the lakeside mansions, attempting to fit in with these One Percenters. Bobbi extricated herself from a conversation with two housewives who’d grossly latched on to Mack and stalked her way across the lawn toward Jemma, who was getting rather too much attention from some smarmy college-aged cretin.  


“Honey,” she broke into whatever pomposity the 20-year-old was spouting and completely ignored him in favor of locking eyes with Jemma. “Didn’t I promise you earlier that we’d get some time together?”  


“Oh, um, yes. But it doesn’t need to be right now.” Jemma offered a completely perfunctory smile at the cretin, who smirked and laced his response with enough innuendo to make Bobbi want to punch him for suggesting that he was happy to accommodate their together time. Instead she looped her arm through Jemma’s and turned away from the pissant.  


“Come on. Let’s go find a spot to watch the sunset.”  


Bobbi didn’t wait for a response before leading Jemma toward the pile of designer blankets set out for guests. She grabbed two and pretended not to notice Jemma’s nervous glances as they walked closer to a large tree just at the edge of the circle of lit torches.  


“How’s here? Nice view, and there are _still people around_.”  


Jemma’s wide eyes were adorable.  


“Bobbi, you cannot mean to… _pay attention to me_ here. I mean, kissing in the house is one thing, but it would be shocking to do it on the ground at a barbecue. It would certainly make us far too memorable for Coulson and May’s plan, right?”  


Bobbi paused in straightening out one of the blankets on the grass and stood up. She waited, watching Jemma’s blush deepen with every second.  


“My plans aren't _just_ to kiss you.”  


Jemma’s sputter was comical.  


“Oh, no.”  


“Oh, yes.”  


But, but Bobbi. I mean, we’re not really girlfriends. Shouldn’t you be actually, you know, attracted to someone before _not just kissing_.“ Jemma had gotten increasingly serious as her rant continued, until she ended up sounding nearly stern. "This kind of thing isn’t meant to be done on a lark, and certainly not out of some kind of pride over a…a game of chicken!”  


Bobbi was pretty sure Jemma just barely kept herself from stomping her foot. Smiling inwardly at the attempt to deflect from having started this all with that hand on Bobbi’s ass, Bobbi placed her own hands on Jemma’s hips and offered a quiet, sincere reply to what seemed to be the most important issue: “Who says I’m not attracted to you?”  


Jemma’s gasp was sensual.  


“Oh.”  


Bobbi stepped closer. “Yeah, so, us being a thing is definitely part of the plan, but the plan is also definitely a really good excuse to finally let you know.”  


“Oh.”  


Bobbi dropped a quick kiss onto Jemma’s slightly parted lips. “You keep saying that. It’s pretty cute.”  


“Are you really going to,” Jemma lowered her voice to a whisper, “be intimate with me. On the lawn. In public?”  


Bobbi pulled back far enough that the two of them could see each other clearly. “Jemma, as much fun as I’m having teasing you, I would never do anything that made you uncomfortable.” Her eyes flicked between each of Jemma’s, looking for some signal. “Especially if you’re not really into this beyond the job and the bit of fun we were having before.”  


Jemma’s expression softened. “Oh, Bobbi. Thank you.”  


Bobbi took a steadying breath, ready to back off at the rejection. And then Jemma’s hands landed on top of hers, pressing firmly into the hips where they’d rested for the last several minutes.  


“ _Thank you_ , and also yes, I am very much into this. I just, I just needed to get my bearings.” Jemma looked down at the soft blanket at their feet and the one still folded behind Bobbi. 

Her brows furrowed. “And to figure out logistics?”  


Having recovered most of her equilibrium — her head was swimming at least a little bit from the feel of Jemma’s body underneath that dress — Bobbi winked. “Come on, let’s sit down. We’ll need that second blanket to cover our legs…it’s getting chilly, isn’t it.”  


“Oh!”  


Bobbi sat down and Jemma followed, settling carefully between the legs stretching out below those expensive, and short, shorts. Nestled in against Bobbi’s torso, Jemma took a few breaths deeper than she’d been able to manage in a while.  


“This is really nice, Bobbi.”  


Bobbi leaned forward, nuzzling the crook of Jemma’s neck and dropping one hand onto Jemma’s knee. “It is, and it’s going to get so much better.”  


A series of soft kisses and a steady, swirling pattern of her fingertips on the available skin of Jemma’s leg kept Bobbi busy as the sunlight started fade. The voices on the lawn behind them were indistinct; Bobbi’s senses were focused entirely on the woman in front of her. So when Bobbi noticed that Jemma was sighing with each light touch of lips to neck or jaw or ear and that Jemma’s legs were pressing ever more insistently out against Bobbi’s, she paused.  


“Are you sure you want more?”  


“Oh, _yes_.” Jemma relaxed farther into Bobbi, leaving herself open even as her eyes fluttered shut.  


Taking care not to jostle Jemma, Bobbi reached for the second blanket and draped it over their knees then planted her left hand behind her for support — getting perfectly situated also gave Bobbi the chance to graze the side of Jemma’s breast…and to hear the breathy moan in response.  


But it was just a graze, Bobbi’s hand not making full contact with Jemma until it reached the fabric stretched taut over her stomach. And then Bobbi slid her hand farther, to the hem resting on the tops of Jemma’s thighs. Dragging the skirt up the long, lean leg she couldn’t see, Bobbi licked her lips — and she saw Jemma do the same.  


Covered by a blanket, back to the party, hidden in flickering torchlight, Bobbi reveled in the moment. And then she let go of the dress to cup Jemma over already damp panties. She felt Jemma rocking into the pressure, and Bobbi held firm against the first, almost tentative rolls of her hips. Bobbi began to stroke, slowly, with one finger, and Jemma began to lift higher and harder; Bobbi stroked harder, faster.  


When Bobbi pushed the sodden satin aside, Jemma moaned loudly. Bobbi paid no attention to whether anyone on the lawn might have heard, just nudged Jemma’s cheek until they were able to manage to find each other’s lips for a kiss deeper and hotter than the one Jemma had surprised her with earlier that day.  


They kept that kiss, less awkward than it would have been if they’d actually cared about what they looked like as Jemma shifted to put as much of her body where Bobbi wanted it as possible. Jemma’s left hand grabbed hold of Bobbi’s thigh and her right twisted back to snake up to the back of Bobbi’s neck. They were both straining to keep from collapsing to the ground, and Jemma was trembling with a growing need for more attention.  


Bobbi broke the kiss and slid her right hand from under Jemma’s skirt, less stricken by the whimper of disappointment from Jemma than she would have been in other circumstances. Reaching for Jemma’s waist with both hands, Bobbi lifted her just enough; setting Jemma down astride her lap, Bobbi kissed the lips in front of her again and dipped her hand between their bodies, resuming a steady, hard rhythm of long sweeps of fingers. Bobbi slipped inside Jemma, making sure to match the thrusting hips rocking into her.  


Bobbi’s mouth on Jemma’s was the only thing that kept the loud, body-wracking moan from breaking through the night, but Bobbi could feel the vibrations on her tongue, down every nerve.  


Jemma collapsed forward into Bobbi, half curling into the strong arms that wrapped around her shoulders. Bobbi could hear the murmur of their friends and the millionaires, punctuated by the occasional laugh or clink of glassware. Jemma’s breathing slowed, and she opened her eyes, tilted her face up to look at Bobbi as well as she could in the dark, and smiled. “You win.”


End file.
